Rhythm and Blues

To handle dreadful time, to cherish it although I have no gall for such- past the ennui of night’s workload, this jive which I embrace relentlessly fizzles like soapsuds in my nails; a voice quelled with the dirt of blue mood… How lethargy chokes me, its tar roasting my senses humid as air, more apt for birds, that I cruise along an alley where piano tunes with acoustic strings invite a certain madness-- the scent of rhythm and blues perks ached limbs, gradually tapping a free movement pleading abandon…cheeks lighten, enthralled by an opulence of notes; till I scream, yes, time, though you're a dreadful bane, I will hold you wildly, once again. 1/6/2018 For Craig Cornish: Blue Contest